


twenty-one summers

by quqin



Series: who ever desired each other as we do [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Knight Clay | Dream, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Prince Dave | Technoblade, idrk what i'm doing lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27555973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quqin/pseuds/quqin
Summary: Technoblade met Dream when he was thirteen.He held his bleeding body in his arms when he was nineteen.And he presses kisses into his honeyed skin now after twenty one summers.And he thinks he understands now, how to love.( or, Dream becomes the prince's knight when they're thirteen, and Techno learns what his feelings mean. )
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Dave | Technoblade
Series: who ever desired each other as we do [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018779
Comments: 44
Kudos: 746





	twenty-one summers

**Author's Note:**

> before we start, just an important note that i don't actually ship the two!! it's all fiction and about their personas instead of the actual CCs themselves. If any of the CCs state explicitly that they are uncomfortable with it, I will take this down immediately!! please don't push this on them or show it to them etc. 
> 
> it has been ages since i've written anything properly, and this is definitely the longest thing + first mc fic I have ever written and published, so i hope it's at least semi-decent aksjdnsf i was nervous with the pacing + transitions but oh well the more you write the more you improve!! 
> 
> i hope u enjoy!! c:

He meets him when he’s only thirteen. 

Technoblade was sat on a plush armchair, idly flicking through the worn pages of a book with hazy rays of afternoon sun streaming in through the mullions of the large glass windows beside him, when the ornate doors of the palace library were opened, catching his attention. He made a brief note of the page he was on, before he snapped the book shut with a gentle thump, and set it down on the table. 

The head of royal staff bowed shallowly, and Techno greeted him with a nod.

“Your Highness, we have someone new to introduce to you.” 

He cocked his head, ruby eyes sharpening in interest as he sat up in his chair, uncrossing his legs from the previously lazy slump his posture had been. Nodding his agreement, the prince propped an elbow up on the padded armrests before resting his chin on the back of his fingers, other hand tapping unconsciously on the golden detailing of the chair as he waited. New faces weren’t uncommon, especially considering the size of the castle - new servants were hired every second week. However, to have someone presented directly to him was certainly something new, Technoblade didn’t know what to expect. 

Soft footsteps on luxurious red carpet sounded only a few seconds as an announcement of his arrival before the newcomer stepped in - wane winter sun teasing his golden hair into a pale halo, rays of luminescence streaming into the room stoking the chartreuse depths of the new boy’s eyes to alight with a playful sparkle. He looks like he’s standing in a vortex of white, untouched by the shadows that rested dormant in the corners of the room where the light did not flood it in starn squares. He’s wearing green - more green than Techno has seen in his life, but the way the shades of seafoam on his tunic and olive of the vest rest on his skin is nothing short of gorgeous. There’s a belt hugging his slim waist, the buckles on it shining from the illumination that pooled in from the glass windows behind Techno, and he notes the white, porcelain mask that hung from the leather around the male’s hips. 

Techno doesn’t know who he is, but he thinks that in that moment, he looks golden, he looks silver, and he looks like a deity. 

“This is Dream, and he’ll be acting as your new personal guard from now on. We have undergone long and specific procedures to safe-check his background. He’s only a few months younger than you” 

Techno made an absent-minded noise at the information, a hum rumbling in his throat as he let his scarlet eyes return to the butler’s figure instead of remaining on the new boy’s. It was certainly difficult to find someone proficient enough to be his knight - the rose-haired prince himself was known to be more than capable of defeating even the self-proclaimed strongest men in the kingdom, and if Dream had passed the tests to be his guard, then it would’ve meant the blonde boy standing opposite him was more than skilled enough. 

“Thank you, Phil. You may take your leave.” 

Techno stood up after the butler left, and didn’t bother with fixing the stray strands of fuschia that fell into his face. The room was silent as he made his way slowly over to Dream, lavish carpet muffling his steps until he came to a stop in front of the shorter male, who was surprisingly looking at him without any sign of nervousness. 

Techno searches for any hint of uncertainty or cowardice in those emerald depths, yet he finds nothing but faint starshine and calm, and maybe another emotion that he couldn’t quite understand.

He lets a smile tug at his lips. 

“Dream, right?” 

Dream nodded. Outside, a bird titters a delicate winter song. 

“Any good at sparring?”

At this, the blond-haired male matches the grin on the prince’s face. Techno thinks that he looks nice when he smiles. 

“Would you prefer to see for yourself, your highness?” 

“Oh?” he says, ruby eyes filling with a spark as he cocked his head to the side - pleasant wit and good humour were already apparent from his new guard, “I do feel rather lethargic from sitting inside reading all day.”

“May I dare invite your highness out onto the training grounds to warm up then, perhaps?” Dream replied, mirth and confidence dancing in his words and honey tone, and suddenly, Techno feels something warm inside of himself dissolve, becoming a warm pool of cloying saccharine. 

He wants to hear the blonde say his name. He wants to voice this thought to his new knight. 

Prince Technoblade does not say any of his thoughts. 

Instead, he says, “Let’s see what you’re made of,” and the two head out. 

\---

Dream was a child of summer. 

Techno met him during the pallid frostiness of a frigid winter, and right now, he can’t help but think that if Dream had been a snow deity when he was thirteen, that he was undoubtedly a sun god in his tuscany glory now at the age of sixteen. A gauzy midsummer breeze ruffled their shirts, offering a momentary sense of cool relief from the perspiration that clung to their bodies as they sparred, too lazy and lax from the warm afternoon to bother with the heavy weights of weapons. Instead, they traded blows leisurely, dodging and striking smoothly while making small talk. It had been three years since Techno first met Dream, first sparred with Dream, and first found someone who was able to read him just as well as he, the other. 

Under the bleary sun, it looked like Dream is on fire from within, as if the sun lived in the linings of his skin to glimmer like gold, to streak through his blonde hair like flaxen strands of delicate cobwebs, and to let his green eyes sparkle with the colours of light, as if they truly were rich emerald gemstones refracting rays of splendour into holo fractals. He’s mesmerising in the way he moves, fluid like rippling water but free like the wind through the trees, grounded like deeply-rooted trees, yet blazing with the fervour, determination and passion of a wildfire. 

Techno thinks he looks beautiful. Of course, he does not voice this thought. 

“Want to take a break? We’ve been going at it for quite a bit already, I want to cool down.” 

The older relaxes his stance, straightening up to wipe the sweat off his face with the back of his hand in agreement with Dream’s suggestion, grimacing slightly at the feeling of his shirt sticking to his skin. The male opposite him let out a light chuckle at the face he made. 

“I don’t understand how you can enjoy this heat. I’m going to melt,” Techno mutters, light irritation creeping into his voice as he tugged the hair tie from his pink hair, strands of rose spilling down like a small stream to cascade over his shoulders. The sparring had caused it to loosen with his movements, and he raked a hand through his coral locks in somewhat annoyance. 

“Here, let me.” 

Slender fingers tug out the hair tie he had previously been biting on before Techno felt two hands combing through his hair, gently plucking at loose locks and smoothing down stray strands. He let out a pleased grumble at the soft pulling, Dream’s expert digits effortlessly tying his hair up into a ponytail, and there was no way that Technoblade could stop the satisfied hum from no longer needing to feel the hot weight of hair covering his neck under the burning sun. 

“Thank you,” he says, and turns around to offer the knight a glass of water. Dream takes it with a smile and a “you’re welcome”, and there’s a comfortable silence between the two while the lazy chirping of cicadas filled the still, hazy air. Techno sneaks a glance at his knight, who had sat down on the grass and was leaning his weight back on his hands, eyes glinting with the reflection of lush green grass and burnished bronze. He let his garnet eyes take in the way the hazy midsummer sun outlined all his features with the mellow brightness of star fire, and the way the gossamer summer breath of wind gently ruffled the blonde’s slightly burnished locks. 

In this ephemeral lilt in time, Techno decides that Dream is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, radiating authorial delicacy with an air of confidence that draped itself over the green-clad boy. 

Once again, he does not say this. The prince does not say many of the thoughts he's had that are similar to these. He doesn't know what it means, what they mean. 

In fact, he does not say any at all. 

Instead, he says, “Let’s head back. I feel sticky and disgusting,” which draws out another chortle from Dream. 

“You’re such a baby, it’s just heat.”

“Shut up, you animal.” 

They bickered good-naturedly on their way back to the castle. 

Above them, chalky white clouds floated leisurely in the skies of endless cerulean. 

\---

The wine rested sweetly and warm on his tongue. 

Techno takes a sip from his glass as he lets out a non-committal hum and a sardonic quip in response to a joke from Dream, and promptly grins at the wheezing laugh he drew from the knight. The alcohol that hung from his lips and trickled down his throat tingled with a warmth that almost made Technoblade feel slightly drowsy, comfortable with sitting next to his guard in the busy ballroom full of dancing and chattering people. Outside, the autumn airs were beginning to breathe decay, or perhaps colour, into the dresses of the trees, and the prince can feel himself slipping into a state of relaxation despite the amount of people in the room, dancing in celebration of the king's birthday. 

Beside him, Dream seems to have noticed his lazy air, and chuckled. "I can't believe you, there are literally hundreds of people dancing and talking while you're here about to fall asleep. Surely you'd like to dance too?" Maybe Techno's senses were dulled from the alcohol bubbling inside him, but he didn't catch the slightly hopeful tone in the blonde's voice, nor the glimmer in his emerald eyes. Instead, he leans back in his chair and looks over at the younger with a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, ruby eyes lidded and dark like the wine he had drunk. 

"Nah, I prefer to just watch. You look good in your suit by the way." 

"O-oh," Dream says, and pauses before continuing, "Thank you." Techno watches curiously as a pale dusting of rosebuds appeared on the younger's cheeks, painting them a light flushed shade of pink. He thinks that there's disappointment, but also nerves and something sweet in the honey tone of the blonde's voice but he can't be certain, nor does he know the reason behind his sudden change in demeanour. Dream tugs at the collar of his dark green coat, gold detailing flashing under the light of the chandeliers, and Techno thinks that he looks very pretty. Shy, even, from the way his knight seems to purse his lips, evidently wanting to ask him something. 

"What's bugging you? Just say it." 

Dream's grip around his glass of champagne tightened and he looked away. Techno eyed his red ears in curiosity and interest, and he thinks there's something inside of him waiting eagerly - for what, he's not too sure himself. He doesn't realise he was holding his breath slightly. 

"N-nothing, I was jus w-wondering i-if you perhaps w-would like to d-dan-"

"Dream! Come over and dance with us you handsome bastard!" 

The moment was interrupted by the rambunctious invitation from Dream's friends, Sapnap and George, and Technoblade feels the budding bloom in his stomach wilt a little. He doesn’t look at Dream, doesn’t catch the way disappointment flashed briefly across the guard’s face, and only hears a light laugh following a rustle of fabric as Dream stood up and made his way over to his two friends. 

He doesn’t know what he’s feeling. Technoblade wasn’t good with identifying his own feelings. He doesn’t know what the unpleasant clench in his stomach meant, he doesn’t know why he longs to reach out and tug the blonde-haired knight back to his side, he doesn’t know why it feels like there’s something ugly inside of him wrenching and tearing away at his airways while screaming at him to get up and move, to walk over and be pacified by the cool waters of the emerald sea. 

He doesn’t know what it means when he feels suffocated in the ballroom of laughing people while watching Dream dance with George, laughter light like sunbeams as they moved together with an uncanny fluidity, seemingly knowing what the other was going to do before it was done. 

He doesn’t know what to do, how to feel, and what it all meant. 

He takes another sip of his wine. 

It rests bitterly and heavy on his tongue. 

\---

This is the nineteenth winter that Techno has seen. 

His breath wreaths in the crisp winter air, white smoke lingering only for a second before dissipating, and out of the corner of his eyes, he glimpses Dream shiver at the Winter Goddess’ frigid caress. He doesn’t think, and nudges his horse closer, ignoring the question in the knight’s eyes before he leans in close. 

He feels Dream still, hears his breath pause, and he hears the beating of his own heart, thrumming faster ever so slightly. 

“Of course you’re cold, idiot, you didn’t even button up your coat.” 

His deft fingers worked the buttons quickly on Dream’s coat, buttoning it up smoothly to prevent the icy fingers of winter to disturb the blonde man much more. He tugs the cloak hanging off his shoulders back up to be tight and snug, ignoring what it meant that he was unwilling for Dream to even suffer the mildest of discomforts, and instead focused on pulling away the red scarf that had been wrapped around his neck. 

“Techno-” 

“Sshh. Let me.”

“But you’ll be cold-”

“I know what I’m doing.” 

He leans over once again to wrap the scarf around Dream, ignoring the tingling sensation in his fingers when his digits accidentally brushed the guard’s jugular, and he swallowed. Techno pulls away, and thinks that he would like to see the smattering of rose buds high on Dream’s flushed cheeks more. The lower half of his face was slightly covered by the crimson fabric of Techno’s scarf, where the prince had tugged it up higher to block more of the cold air, and the older thinks that he looks good in red. 

He thinks a lot. 

“T-thank you,” Dream murmurs, slightly bashfully, and Technoblade crooks a smile at him, throwing a casual “anytime” at him, before urging his horse back into a trot. 

The snow crunched quietly under his stallion’s hooves.

\---

The snow was red underneath Dream’s still body. 

Techno shakes the lime-clad figure, hot tears freezing cold on his face as he presses down on the blonde haired boy’s stomach, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. He looked down at the pale face of his guard, flecks of crimson as deep in colour as Techno’s scarf streaking through and matting his soft hair and skin. He hears the rapid and shallow breathing coming from the younger as the white snow underneath them greedily welcomed the ruby liquid escaping the stab in Dream’s side so that they could put on a sick dress of garnet. 

“Dream, wake up, wake up, please, wake up-” 

He’s babbling at this point, vision blurry as his head spun in panic. He ignores the stinging pain of his own wounds on his shoulder as he frantically thinks of what to do. He had sent back someone already to alert the royal doctor as fast as he could, but Techno doesn’t know if they’d be able to get here in time to save his knight. 

The attack had been sudden. 

Along with Dream and a few others, he had been riding through the winter woods when suddenly, arrows whistled through the air, quicksilver and hungry for blood, before the servant next to Techno dropped to the floor, the glint of metal through his chest cruel and wicked. Technoblade’s drawing his sword in an instant, and meets the black-clad killers head on, swinging his diamond blade and dyeing the blank canvas around him a rich shade of maroon. He hears Dream yank out his axe, the dark sangria-coloured weapon whistling through the air as more bodies crumpled to the ground. 

He thinks they’ve done it, that they had eliminated the threat, that they’re fine, they’re safe. His ruby eyes flicker over immediately to check if Dream was fine, and is relieved to find the blonde standing not too far away from him, cold glint creeping away from green eyes to give way to a warm ease. Technoblade smiles, and makes to step towards the shorter male. 

A few things happen in a split second. 

He sees Dream’s eyes widen, peach lips shaping his name. 

He hears a crunch of snow behind him, and the unnerving breaking of a twig. 

He hears the slide of metal, and he hears a scream of his name as he whirls around to meet a blade ramming right towards his chest, dark obsidian eyes of the near-dead assassin blazing with determination and arrogance. He hadn’t checked if they were all dead. 

He feels a body collide into his, shoving him away as a pained cry echoed around the clearing. He hears Dream inhaling sharply as merlot liquid immediately began to gush out from where the dagger wounding him in the side, and he drops to one knee as the unforgiving blade is wrenched out. 

He sees red. Technoblade’s vision is painted a vivid shade of scarlet, and an animalistic urge to destroy the assassin roars up from within him, rage seeping burning him alight from the inside. Techno doesn’t realise he’s drawn his blood-crusted diamond blade until it’s already dug its way deep through the black-clad stranger’s chest, wrenching the soul from his body until he yanks his sword out mercilessly, and the body drops. 

Now, he struggles through the thick snow with Dream unconscious on his back, and Technoblade thinks that he wants to bring Dream home. 

He will bring Dream home, even if his vision is already fading and he can feel his head become light from fatigue. 

He hears a shout of “your highness” before his body pitches forwards, and he sprawls onto the icy embrace of the ground, Dream’s name still falling from his frozen lips as the world disappears from his consciousness. 

Prince Technoblade would later jerk awake, a shout of Dream’s name escaping him as he looks around frantically for the man before he finds himself in his bed at the castle. He would later fight against all the servants and doctors that tried to make him stay in his bed, and force his way to where Dream was lying in his quarters, eyes still closed and face still pallid, but breathing and _alive_. He would later fall asleep in the chair next to Dream’s bed, hand gripping his guard’s slender fingers tightly as if he was afraid that if he let go, that the younger would leave him. 

Techno is nineteen years old when he almost loses his star. 

\---

The fire in the hearth crackles merrily as Technoblade stares into the flickering flames absent-mindedly. A steaming cup of tea rests on the table beside him, every bit as forgotten as the book sitting on his lap was. 

The embellished gold doors opened quietly, and Techno snapped out of his reveries to look over, relaxing when his gaze met the calming one of the head of household staff. He lets out a tired puff of air, rubbing his eyes wearily before sitting up and tilts his head as an invitation for Phil to sit down in the chair opposite him. 

“Your highness seems troubled. Is something the matter?” 

He doesn’t know what to say. 

“I…” he starts off, unsure and fumbling for the right words. He struggles to find them, and struggles to have the confidence to let them spill from his lips. Instead, he asks, “How do I love someone?” and doesn’t know what to feel when a look of understanding came across the mature servant. The room is filled with a thoughtful silence for a while, and Techno plays with his own fingers in absent-minded distress. 

“That...it is certainly something difficult to explain, your highness.” Phil lets out a chuckle, and Techno snorts with him. The butler shifts in his chair, bringing a hot cup of tea to his lips too to take a sip while Techno goes back to watching the fire. It reminded him of the way Dream was a flaming deity to others, sure in his movements as he brought down his enemies with the violet blade of his axe and flipped gracefully through the air, yet when it was just the two, the blonde guard’s smiles and laughter would flicker tamely, pooling warmth into Techno’s stomach as he traces his red eyes over the younger’s features. 

There’s the clearing of a throat, snapping Technoblade’s attention over to the servant, before Phil begins. 

“There is no certain way to love someone, your highness. You can love them as if they were topaz, as if they were roses, or as if you were to be shot by an arrow of carnation that propagates fire. You can love them as one loves certain obscure things, secretly, between the shadow and the soul. How you love someone is up to you to decide. How do you think you love?” 

Techno’s eyes flutter shut, and he thinks, savouring the butler’s words to let them form wraiths in his mind. He thinks for a long time, before he believes he can answer.  
“I,” he says, and takes a deep breath before he continues, “love him without knowing how, when, or from where. I love him directly without any problems or pride.” He thinks that this is the best that he can manage, and he can feel the comforting gaze of the elder servant resting on him gently. 

“And what do you want to do, your highness?” 

He doesn’t need to think. 

“I want to do with him what spring does with the cherry trees. I want him so close that his eyes close with my dreams, and that his hand is mine to hold when he rests it on my chest.” 

There’s a period of silence between the two after Techno has blurted out the urges within him for the first time ever, and he is lost. He feels as if he is lost at sea, subject to torrents of waves as his emotions rear and buck wildly like mustangs. 

“Dream feels the same way, your highness. Trust me.” Phil said quietly, words washing across his body like still water, and Techno freezes. 

“What?” he says.

“Good night, your highness. I will be taking my leave now.”

He’s left with the crackling of the fireplace again, rampant thoughts in his head and the image of a grinning golden-haired guard with shining emerald eyes. 

\---

Dream’s laughter is light and melodious on the spring breeze as it gently ruffles his hair. 

The air is filled with the smell of freshly-baked goods, the buzz of joyous citizens and celebration around him a pleasant hum as he and Dream wandered around the marketplace, idly spending money on food browsing the various trinkets being sold. With the king’s birthday being today, celebrations and festivities were being held all over the kingdom, and Techno had decided to take Dream out with him on a visit to the town to spend the day. 

Beside him, his guard tugs at his sleeve before pointing to a pastry, expectant beam on his face, and the prince rolls his eyes good-naturedly, before he fishes for a few gold. Technoblade hands over the coins to the stall owner and passes over Dream’s food with a teasing huff, “What am I, just your money bag?” The blonde guard lets out another chortle, throwing him a grin dancing with mirth, “Surely your royal highness could afford to waste some gold on someone lowly like me?” 

“It’s not a waste if it’s you.” 

The words spill from his mouth before he can stop them, and they both freeze. Technoblade’s mind blanks as his insecurities reared their ugly heads, and clenched his fists tightly behind his back while desperately trying to think of something to say. Opposite him, Dream is silent, and he fears he’s finally messed up and now the gorgeous knight will be disgusted at him and want to leave and that he’ll hate him and oh god he has never fucked up this badly be-

There’s a gentle touch to his arm, and Techno jerks his gaze up at Dream, who was regarding him with tenderness and something he thinks looks familiar to the enamourment that creeps into his ruby eyes whenever he sees the younger. 

“Hey, try these, they’re good,” the honey-haired male said softly, before bringing up a pastry to Techno’s lips, tapping on them lightly with a sweet smile with his head tilted and the wind goddess running her fingers through the shorter’s hair. Techno doesn’t think, he obeys the words of the god in front of him and lets the sweetness of the dessert wash over his taste buds. He thinks that Dream’s lips look sweeter. 

There is a tension between them, the air charged with electricity as Techno looks at Dream, something within him burning white-hot. He looks gossamer and beautiful, burnt golden hair curled in flaxen waves, chartreuse eyes burning fires of oscillations, and he thinks that Dream looks like a dream, for better words, and that he doesn’t look real. None of this feels real, either. 

Something within him, something primeval and ancient, and enduring, ignites. He wants to taste honeyed lips, to savour and dissolve into something like melted sugar on the tip of his tongue. Techno _wants_ with such fervour that it scares himself. 

The silence is interrupted when a small child crashes into Dream, and Technoblade jerks back to yank his burning gaze away from the guard. He tells himself to hold back, to not give in to temptation. He hears Dream tell the young boy to be careful in the future before waving him off, and the two are left back with their stifling air of _what_ , Techno didn’t know. He doesn’t know what to do, what to say. 

He settles for a cough and covers his mouth, feeling heat emanate from inside of him when he spots Dream’s eyes linger on his lips, and forces words to tumble, “Shall we head back?” 

He thinks there’s something like reluctance lurking in his knight’s stunning eyes, before a soft “okay” is uttered. 

Their hands brush on their way back to the castle. 

\---

It's during his twenty first summer that Dream rests his head on Technoblade’s shoulders.

He doesn’t tense up, and doesn’t stutter when it happens, but he thinks it’s because of the wine that left behind an aftertaste of honey and wild berries on his tongue, swirling inside of him lethargically to loosen his muscles and nerves. 

The first flower carnation of iridescence lights up the dark night sky with a bang in celebration of the new year, and the prince pulls the blonde boy closer to him, feeling the warmth transmit to every region, every tissue, and every nerve. It was peculiar how a single touch of warmth was enough to light his weary heart, as if there were stars forming within him where the burning would last centuries, millennials, or forever if such exists. A relieved sigh escapes the knight’s lips, and Technoblade does not look away this time when the boy leaning on him turns to gaze at him. 

He’s silver and gauzy under the light of the fireworks and the moon, and the prince reaches out to gently hold a strand of his hair, fair and the colour of moonbeams. It is unfair, he thinks, for one person to be able to look so effortlessly glorious whether it be under the attention of the moon goddess, or under the radiance of the sun deity. 

“I love you,” he says, the words finally dripping from his tongue after years of being bitten on, and he finds that it’s no longer the wine that is heating him up inside. It’s the way Dream shifts, moves, long legs folding to sit on Technoblade’s lap and wrap his arms around the prince’s neck with blooms of scintilla lighting up his face, his freckles, his smile, his lips. It’s the way that Techno feels like he’s made of paper, and has been thrown inside of a hearth, left to crumble into ashes. The hand on his shoulders, the legs straddling him, the fingers brushing the contours of his jaw tenderly, and the returned murmur of "I love you too," that makes him think that he’s burning, and he can taste the ashes and embers but he _wants,_ he wants to taste honey and sweetness on his lips. 

“Can I, Dream?” he whispers the name in adoring worship that is so _drenched_ with tenderness that it sends a beautiful blush painting the younger’s cheeks. He’s so _pretty._

 _“Yes,”_ a breath. 

Dream’s eyes flutter shut, like a butterfly’s wings closing for the first time and catching the faintest silver glow of the stars when Techno leans in. 

He’s home. 

He had been a castaway lost at sea for so many days, so many nights, so many years, hanging onto splintering driftwood, and it feels like he has finally found land. 

He lets the fire consume him. 

\---

Technoblade met Dream when he was thirteen. 

He held his bleeding body in his arms when he was nineteen. 

And he presses kisses into his honeyed skin now after twenty one summers. 

And he thinks he understands now, how to love. 

**Author's Note:**

> inspired partly by pablo neruda's Love Sonnets c: 
> 
> thank you for reading <3
> 
> (p.s. i'm seeing mentions of a dnb discord but i don't know which one is the one so if anyone would be nice enough to lmk the link skdfjnskf-)


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